Nerdy Girl and the Biker Boy
by OzellaMarie
Summary: I'm not a nerd. I just love being at home, reading my books and writing my fan fiction stories. It brings me joy, and anything else is just irrelevant as far as I'm concerned, including men. Well, that was until he walked into my life. A/H Edward/Bella Romance-Humor HEA Mature Content and Strong Language. Drabble Fic/Short Chapters
1. Nerdy Weirdos and Hopeless Hussys

**Chapter 1**

 **Nerdy Weirdos and the Hopeless Hussys**

* * *

"Are you at it again?"

My best friend is a ninja. Every time she comes over to my house I never hear her walk in. Apparently giving her the spare house key wasn't one of my most brilliant ideas.

"Do you ever knock?" I snap as I continue to pound away at the keys, looking at the backspace key with disgust as it keeps popping out of place. Stupid laptop. "I'm gonna buy a big, ferocious dog to keep you from sneaking up on me."

"I swear you came flying out of your mama's vagina with a serious case of PMS. I still don't know how you and I ever became friends," Rose says, hovering over my shoulder. "Oh. My. God, _Becky_. You have some serious reality issues. Don't you ever get tired of writing that crap? I mean, hell, you don't even get paid for it."

And my name isn't Becky. It's Bella, or Bell's to my friend's, and Rose is referring to my writing. She doesn't understand. Ever since I started writing she's had something negative to say. And she's right. I don't get paid for it. But it's what I love to do in my spare time. Besides, I love to hear the feedback I get and all the crazy reviews from my readers. Some are funny as hell.

"For shit sake, Bella, it's fan fiction! _Faaaan_ _fiiiiiction_. Ya can't get any nerdier than that."

Don't judge. I get enough of that from that pain in the butt. And to be honest, my life could be worse. I could be using drugs, selling my rear on the street corner, or something equally off-putting.

And you're probably wondering what fan fiction is and why the Rose is getting her panties in a twist over it. Let's just say that it's a whole other fabulous world where you can do whatever you want with beloved characters from television, movies, and books that anyone who knows what I'm talking about would understand.

"So, what is it today? Sparkling vampires or fuck-hot, murderous bikers? And if they're both in the same story, having a three-way with some sexy blonde bimbo, I may have to check it out."

Stabbing the ninja in the throat with a sparkling fang sounds like it might be my next plan.

"What exactly is it that you need, Rose? I'm kind of busy here."

"Welp, my nerdy weirdo," she replies, hopping up on the corner of my desk. A big smile stretches across her features. "I need a favor."

"That's nothing new." I continue to type away, trying relentlessly to get lost into my story of vampires and werewolves. However, I'm completely thrown off by the Rose's next words. "What do you need now?"

"I kinda need you to go with me…on a blind date."

My head whips up to meet Rose's batting eyelashes. She should really know better than to ask me to do something like that. The last time I tried to help her with this sort of thing, she left me sitting in a darken movie theatre with some guy named Jacob that smelled like a wet dog. Seriously. It wasn't pleasant at all.

"I don't think so you hopeless hussy. Not gonna happen."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No?"

"Yes."

 _Crap…_

"Ha! I knew you'd say yes!" Rose says as I silently berate myself for not paying closer attention. Falling into her web of idiocy and finding myself caught, trapped and super screwed, I watch as she quickly runs to my front door, turns around and says, "See ya at six!"

 _Damn it!..._

* * *

 **{Author's Note}**

 **Thanks for entertaining this new story by giving it a go :)**

 **The chapters for this one will be less than 1,000 words, short and sweet.**

 **I hope that you enjoy this fun little fic because it's gonna be one hell of a ride :)**

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	2. Jordache Jeans and 100 Slow Strokes

**Chapter 2**

 **Jordache Jeans and 100 Slow Strokes**

* * *

I run my palms down the front of my jeans and make sure that my outfit is on point. I cannot stand when clothing does not match, and it irks me to no end when I'm in public and at least a quarter of the town looks like they just rolled out of bed. No and thank you.

Standing in front of my full-length mirror I take in the floral print blouse Nana Swan bought me last year for my birthday. I'm even more impressed with the white belt that came with my Jordache jeans right off the clearance rack at the local thrift store. For what I would've paid seventy-five cents for, I got these babies at a five cent bargain, _and_ I was able to get that yellow stain out with no problem at all. I lift my pant leg up to make sure that my white slip-ons are clean. There's nothing worse than wearing dirty shoes, even if they did cost only two bucks.

I nod my approval and turn to head to the restroom. Picking up my hair brush, I start my ten minute hair regimen. One hundred slow strokes. Top to bottom. It takes me ten minutes max to properly brush my hair. I read in an article somewhere that Jane Austen's heroines did this every day. How can you not trust those facts, especially coming from Ms. Austen herself? It's a no-brainer, people. Letting out a satisfied sigh, I place my brush next to my comb on the counter top and search out my favorite hair clip. Plucking up the yellow, floral bow, I pull two chunks of hair from each side of my head back up to the top of my head and clip them together with the beautiful bow. Giving my neck and wrists a few squirts of Tabu perfume and nod at my entire appearance, my flip phone begins to ring.

"This is Isabella Swan." I answer the phone not bothering to look at the caller I.D. thing. "How may I help?"

"I know for a simple fact that it does not take you this long to get ready, and so help me, if you look and smell like my great grandma when you get here, I will shoot myself in the foot," Rose says, breathing heavily on the other end of the phone. "Light a match under your ass and get down here, Bella! We're already here. Goodbye!"

 _Why would she want to shoot herself in the foot?_

With a shrug of my shoulders, I flip my phone closed, picking up my car keys and heading out the front door. I take a good, long look at Gertie and smile. My green, nineteen eighty-five Yugo has been with me since my days in high school and has never failed me, not even once, and I'm sure that tonight will be no different. Sliding in the driver's seat and clicking on my seat belt, I grip onto the steering wheel. I turn the ignition over and proceed to back out of my driveway, making sure to look all ways before putting Gertie into drive.

"Well, Gert, off we go."

* * *

Until Next Time...

OzellaMarie


	3. Roaches Aren't So Bad

**Chapter 3**

 **Roaches Aren't So Bad**

* * *

My heart starts to race when I pull up to the address Rose had given me. I look up at the sign over the building and feel like my stomach just bottomed out.

Cullen's Roadhouse and Tavern isn't the kind of establishment that any self-respecting person would enter. From the stories _I've_ heard, it's pretty much a place for the unsavory, criminal type. The place has been around well before I was born and I'm surprised it's still standing or hasn't been shut down yet. In a nutshell, the place is a biker bar on one side complete with stripper poles and loud music and a restaurant on the other side of the building for the more respectable patrons.

I've never once stepped foot into this place. One, because it's just not my cup of tea, and two, out of fear of catching Chlamydia or some other transferable disease. No and thank you.

"It's about time! I was beginning to get worried that you might've stopped off at the library and got stuck there."

I crank my window halfway down and get a good look at Rose. She looks unsavory. She'll fit right in.

"I think I'm going to go back home," I say to her, shifting my eyes to the right when some beefy, burling man with a long white beard exits the building.

"Oh, c'mon, bells," Rose pleads, sticking out her bottom lip. "Give it a chance. It's not all that bad, and besides, we'll be in the restaurant the whole time. I promise. Pinky swear."

"If I get Gonorrhea I'm blaming you." Rose sticks out her pinky and I hook it with mine. "And if anyone in there touches me, I'm dousing them with pepper spray. Deal?"

"Absoutely." Rose smiles at me, opening my car door, and takes a big whiff. "You wore your grandma's stinkum' spray, didn't you?"

"For your information, Tabu does not stink and yes, it was Nana Swan's favorite."

"Nice bow."

"Nice hooker heals."

"Touché, Bells," Rose says as she grabs my hand and nearly drags me to the entrance of the building, smiling like a baboon. "Oh, I told Roach all about you. I think he's pretty excited to meet you."

My feet stop right as her hand lands on the door handle. "Roach? Who the heck is Roach?"

"Your date, Bells."

And before I can interject or run for my life, Rose pulls me into the building and points over to two men sitting in a corner booth.

"That one right there with the black beard, green eyes and that fuck me sideways grin is Roach but I think his real name is Ed or Edward or something like that," she explains, but my gaze is still locked in on his green eyes. Rose chuckles and squeezes my hand. "You're welcome."

"I can't do this," I tell her as an uneasy fluttering starts to happen in the pit of my stomach. "He's…he's…"

"Amazing," she replies just before saying, "Give it a chance, Bella. He really is a nice guy. He just looks a little rough around the edges, is all. Have I ever steered you wrong before?"

"All the time."

"But you're still my friend so I must be doing something right," Rose says, tossing me a wink.

Just as I close my eyes and give myself a mental pep talk, I'm nearly mowed down by something large and made of steel.

"Ah shit, lady, you okay?"

When I get control of my bearings and look up, those beautiful green eyes I was just locked onto are staring right back at me.

 _I'm in so much trouble. Yep. I'm screwed._

* * *

 **{Author's Note}**

 **I've had a few comments regarding Bella's age and her preferred manner of dress so let me start by clarifying a few things.**

1) The year is 2016

2) Bella was raised by her grandmother who didn't really get passed the 1980's

3) Bella is 26 years old and is very much set in her ways and feels like there is absolutely nothing weird about the way she dresses, acts, or lives.

4) Rose is a Bella's very best friend. Albeit, she can be rude at time, she does have Bella's best interest at heart.

5) Bella's character description in this story is based off of one of my aunts. Almost in her 50's, the lady still wears bright floral prints and big bows in her hair and doesn't think twice about it. Oh, and she's married to a handsome man and has three children.

6) This is a story of finding one's self and first time love. Sometimes it takes some longer to find these things than others.

7) This is a Humor/Romance story. It's meant to be silly, funny and meant to make you laugh.

 **I hope this answered some of your questions so far. And please remember, when reading my stories you never know what you're gonna read next :)**

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	4. Drama Queen and the Booty Buster

**Chapter 4**

 **Drama Queen and the Booty Buster**

* * *

 _Ow. That hurt._

I lift my right butt cheek up off the ground and start rubbing my rear like my life depended on it. This isn't my first butt crashing rodeo and probably won't be my last. I haven't always been light on my feet or even graceful when I walk, and when I was five years old I ate gravel when I fell off of my super awesome yellow bike with the tall handle bars and wicked banana seat. I remember that day well. I had finally figured out that if I kept my arms locked and my back slightly bent forward, I would fly like the wind down the sidewalk. Well I did fly like the wind, and then lost my balance, crashed right down on that wicked banana seat and down onto the cement…hard. _Rub the pain away_ , Nana Swan told me. _It's only gonna hurt for a minute, girl,_ she said. But then again, she also told me that eating gobs of Vick's Vapo Rub would cure any cold in creation. I'm starting to rethink the vapo rub.

"Christ, lady, I'm sorry."

 _That voice. Darn it that sounds nice._

"Didn't mean to break your ass."

 _Oh, and now he's talking about my butt._

"Woman, I don't know how to do mouth to mouth."

 _Mouth to mouth sounds even better._

"Bella! Are you dead, Bells?"

I keep my eyes screwed shut and revel in the beautiful gruff voice just near my right ear, moving the back of my hand to rest on my forehead. I'd seen it done in an old movie. It seemed to have a positive effect for the heroine.

"Hey, drama queen," Rose whispers in my ear as she kneels down beside me.

I open one eye and look up at her as she grins like the cat that ate the canary. But it's when I feel something touch the side of my cheek that jostles me into action. Both of my eyes snap open and my breath literally catches in the back of my throat when piercing green eyes, the same green eyes I'd just locked onto moments ago, stare right back at me as my assailant slowly strokes the side of my face and grins some goofy lopsided grin underneath his beard.

"You must be my date."

 _Oh, God, that smile…_

"Isabella."

 _Oh yeah, that sounds good on his lips…_

"How's that ass?"

 _Oh…_

"Well, Isabella," my assailant says, moving in closer so he can whisper into my ear. "You hungry?"

 _You have no idea…_

* * *

 **{Author's Note}**

I will try to pick 5 review responses in each chapter to answer with each update. So make em' good cause I might just choose yours!

* * *

 **-Chapter 3 Review Responses-**

 **1)** **{trisha63}** Hey, Trisha, it's great to be back! So glad you're here this time around! ;)

 **2)** **{Loveforgreeneyes}** Yes! Tabu is fragrance that needs getting used to. :)

 **3)** **{icrodriguez}** That review made me do a full-on fist pump! ;)

 **4)** **{locheree}** Aqua Net was the stuff! But the gold can was theeeeeeee best! :)

 **5)** **{Rebadams7}** It was a toss up between Tabu, Love's Baby Soft, Vanilla Fields or Exclamation. Tabu won out! ;)

* * *

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	5. Boloney Ponies and Sexy Roaches

**Chapter 5**

 **Boloney Ponies and Sexy Roaches**

* * *

"Well, how about we get you up off the floor first?"

Once I get to my feet, two strong hands grip me from around my waist. I stay focused on his throat. The throat is safe. If I just keep looking at his throat I won't be subjected into looking at his eyes or his lips or even that perfectly groomed beard hugging tightly around his mouth and full, kissable lips. The throat. Must keep my eyes on the throat. But it's hard, really, really hard. Wait. I wonder if _it_ is really hard.

 _Oh my goodness, what in creation is happening to me? I've turned into a friggen hussy…_

"There ya go," my assailant says, grinning one of those sexy grins. "And now that I know you're not dead on the floor, I gotta go take a leak."

I watch as he walks away toward the restrooms and can't help but notice the shape of his buns. I mean, they are all kinds of f…

"That was a pretty kick ass move, Bella. That whole throw your ass on the floor, damsel in distress bit was brilliant."

My eyes snap up toward Rose. What the heck is she talking about? What move? I didn't do any move, or at least I don't think I did.

"Yeah, I'm such a comedian. No. Not okay at all," I tell her as she pulls me to the side. I look around and a better portion of the restaurant is staring at me like I'd just grown three heads. "Your bright idea on legs just plowed me hard and it hurt like hell."

"Oh, but I bet if that sexy fucker really _did_ plow your ass, that shit would hurt so damn good that with any luck you'd be walking crooked for an entire week."

"What the heck, Rose?" I squeak out, looking around to see if anyone heard my uncouth friend. "Do you mind not talking about ass plowing in public please? We're in a restaurant for crying out loud."

"Yeah, I know, but look," Rose replies, linking her arm with mine, and points over to my assailant as he slowly walks back toward us. "Tell me that you wouldn't want that fine ass man naked and sweaty, spread eagle on your bed with his boloney pony cradled in his hand as he cocks a brow and smiles, almost like an offering."

A clearing of Roach's throat pulls me away from Rose's x-rated description of his boloney pony, and just when I think I'm in the clear, I hear his low, gruff voice ask…

"So, who wants some juicy meat?"

 _Fuck…_

* * *

 **{Author's Note}**

 **I received a really ugly review for Chapter 1, and even though I didn't let it bother me because I'm used to criticism from both sides of the spectrum, I do not nor will I ever put up with people being hateful and mean.**

 **First, this story is written for enjoyment and in the hopes that you all will get a little laugh from it.**

 **Second, this story is unedited and un-proofed so take it or leave it.**

 **Third, at the end of the day this story is free for everyone to read.**

 **I know that the Twilight Fan Fiction Fandom is a fierce, loyal and committed group, but I have to draw the line somewhere as I'm sure you would too.**

 **I welcome constructive criticism but I do not stand bullying, hateful and ugly comments. I would hate to have to permanently remove myself from this site if the situation continues. None of the FF writers deserve to be treated the way I was.**

 **Anyway, enjoy the update...**

* * *

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	6. Man Bears and Low Whispers

**Chapter 6**

 **Man Bears and Low Whispers**

* * *

"What does he mean by juicy meat?" I ask Rose, gripping the side of her top. "Please tell me he's talking about a cheeseburger or even a steak or something equivalent to food consumption."

"Yeah, babe, I'm pretty sure he's talking about food." Rose chuckles at my expense. "But wouldn't it be fuck hot if he was talking about giving you a hot beef injection with his boloney pony and spicy meatballs?"

A little bit of vomit crawls up my throat at the thought of a loaf of boloney and spicy meatballs getting anywhere near my vagina. What on earth would make her think that I would ever w…

"Bella, this is Emmett," Rose says, introducing me to a man that, if I'm being honest, is as big as a friggen bear. His hands alone are large enough to take me out with one love tap up against the head. "And this, who you already met, or ran into, is Roach."

Emmett is the first to welcome me with an arm jerking hand shake. I swear my entire body just vibrated.

"So this is the infamous Bella."

I look at the man bear and wonder what on earth Rose actually told the two men about me.

"Please don't believe anything she has told you about me," I reply, pointing at Rose. "None of it is true."

A smile spreads across Emmett's face and now I'm curious as to what Rose actually told them about me.

"So then that means you're not the Isabella that loves to write and read? And you're not the Isabella that's a girl's very best friend? That's not you?"

My eyes snap over to Roach, the ass plower, and looking at him in an upright position has given me a new perspective on how utterly handsome he really is.

"Why don't you take a seat right here," he says, patting the empty area of the booth next to him. As soon as my rear hits the vinyl seat, Roach leans over a fraction and whispers in my ear low enough that I only I can hear him. "I got that juicy meat on standby for you."

 _Holy cow…_

* * *

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	7. The Gonorrhea Factory and The Vegetarian

**Chapter 7**

 **The Gonorrhea Factory and The Vegetarian**

* * *

Why did I agree to this? Not only was I literally mowed down and nearly killed by the lumberjack looking biker dude named after a disgusting bug sitting next to me, Rose decided to freak me out with visions of spicy, meaty food creeping close my vagina, now Roach wants to feed me his hot meat.

I can feel his eyes on me. Now on normal day and a normal situation, this would not bother me. However, this situation is anything but normal. Before today you'd never catch me in this place or anywhere near the gonorrhea factory next store. Don't get me wrong. I get that people have their preferences, the certain things and places that help them blow off some steam every now and then. But why in the world would anyone want to subject themselves to a meal with a side of The Clap? _'Excuse me, Miss, here's your filet mignon and garden salad, and once you're done with your meal, feel free to pop on over to the bar next door for your free side of VD. No cover charge to get in.'_ Eww. No and thank you.

I blow out a breath and get the sudden urge to scrub the skin right off my body. I cannot do this. I cannot sit here and pretend that I'm not totally irked out. Something's going to crawl on me. I just know it. A crab maybe or quite possibly a…

"So how do you like your meat?"

"I'm a vegetarian! I don't eat meat!"

Oh, crud. Did I just yell that out?

I cover my lips with two fingers and silently wish for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Panic and I do not go well together. But what else was I supposed to do? The guy wants to give me his beef. Holy moly there's that smile again.

"Are you okay, Bella?"

I look over at Rose as visions of stabbing her in the eyeball cross my mind.

"I was just curious how you wanted your steak cooked," Roach says, the side of his mouth lifting in a cute as heck smile. "Most people like their meat medium rare, but if you're a plant eater, they have a pretty killer salad here. Want me to order you one?"

"No!" I blurt out, reaching between Roach and I for my purse. It's now or never. "I think I need to go. Rose, I'll talk to you later. It was n…nice meeting you guys."

Sliding out of the booth as all eyes narrow in on me, and sweat starts to dot along my forehead, my eyes suddenly spring open when a large, firm, ring riddled hand grips me around the wrist. I look down at where Roach's hand is touching me and follow it all the way up, passed his tattoos, and up to his eyes. His gaze is soft and curious, and I have to admit that a small tinge of curiosity has bitten me in the butt.

He pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth just a fraction. The action makes my belly twist in knots. I think I'm getting the flu or something equally disgusting.

 _Oh, God, please don't let me throw up on this guy_ …

"Why don't you stay," he says, and starts to rub small circles on my hand with the pad of his thumb. _Why does that feel so good!_ "Promise, no more talk about meat, hot or otherwise. Deal?"

I don't know why but I stop myself from completely scooting out of the booth.

I hold my breath when Roach leans over a bit and whispers, "Are you really a vegetarian?"

I shake my head very slowly and only look at him from the corner of my eye.

"Didn't think so," he replies, smiling again through that amazing beard of his. "That's okay, Isabella, I'll eat your meat, too."

 _Huh?_ _…_

"By the way, my name's Edward."

* * *

 **{Author's Note}**

 **Oh, Bells, you really need to get more...**

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	8. Word Vomit and Pretty Cashiers

**Chapter 8**

 **Word Vomit and Pretty Cashiers**

* * *

 _He wants to eat my meat. He wants to eat my meat. He wants to eat my meat._

I need to get a grip. A firm, tight, _manly_ grip…

He needs to quit touching me. Dear, God, please make him quit touching me!

"So, Isabella, what do you do when you aren't being set up on blind dates?"

I'm not sure how to answer that. And even if I knew the correct answer, I'm pretty sure I still wouldn't be able to respond with Roach, I mean, Edward's eyes trained on my lips. I decide to give him the most generic answer I can come up with.

"I work."

Another sexy grin lifts at the corner of his mouth, but that's not what has my full attention. I watch in rapt attention has his fingers fidget and move and notice how long and thick they are. I can almost feel my heart beating in my throat, and it doesn't do me any good when a party starts to take off below my belt.

"That's good to know. But what _kind_ of work do you do?"

I take a minute to think his question through. I suppose that if I tell him what my occupation is, it wouldn't hurt, but if I tell him where I work, that might be an invitation for disaster. I hate disasters as much as I hate distractions, and Edward seems like he would be quite the distraction, so I chose the former.

"I'm in customer service."

"For fuck's sake, Bella. Just tell the man already." Rose gives me her "Quit Being a Weirdo" glare. "She's a cashier at the Grab-N-Go down on Main Street."

My eyes go wide and I'm once again fantasizing about stabbing my best friend in _both_ of her eyeballs.

"Hey, I like that joint! There beer is cheap and their fried corn dogs are the bomb." Rose's date, Emmett, licks his lips, apparently reliving a past moment with one of our fried weenies. "I've never seen you there, though."

"That's probably because she works overnights."

"Geez, Rose, thank you for sharing that bit information with complete strangers," I reply. "Maybe some things are best keep away of public knowledge."

Edward's fingertips softly graze across the top of my hand, and I can't help that squeezing feeling in my belly. When I chance a look up into his eye, I completely regret it. He's beautiful and I'm a goner.

"Maybe I'll have to stop by some time. Ya know. Say hello to the pretty cashier at the Grab-N-Go."

"Oh, Lauren only works part-time and every other weekend," I reply and quickly look down at my hands as a lump forms in the center of my throat. "But, yeah. You could do that."

"For friggin' fuck's sake, Bella, he's not talking about Lauren. He's talking about you!"

As soon as the words leave Rose's mouth, I look up at Edward again just as he proceeds to wink at me, confirming her statement.

Like I said… _I'm a_ _goner_.


	9. Chunky Cheese and A Beefy Smorgasbord

**Chapter 9**

 **Chunky Cheese and A Beefy Smorgasbord**

* * *

"Who got the triple meat platter?"

I look up at the waitress as she addresses our table and nearly fall out of my chair when I take in the largest pile of meat I've ever seen. It's huge and almost disgusting as portions of it are lathered in a gravy of sorts as the thick, brown goop seeps underneath the small ear of corn and around the bread roll.

"That'd be me!" Emmett points to himself with a huge grin on his face as if he'd just won the lottery. "Baby, I'm fixin' on shovin' all this shit down my pie hole. One juicy piece at a time."

"You _are_ the man, baby," Rose coos, and I instantly feel the need to upchuck on his meat mound. "If you finish all your food I've got desert waiting just for you."

Never, and I mean never, have I ever seen Rosalie act this way with any man, let alone a man beast that can put away half a chicken, a side of beef, and a rack of pork ribs in one sitting without getting an ounce of food on him.

"Grilled chicken salad and the Ginormous Bacon Avacado Burger?"

I look over at Edward's plate. It's almost as huge as Emmett's. It's a heart attack on a bun and that's putting it lightly.

"You're salad looks…good," Emmett says, cramming a slick drumstick between his lips. "What is that? Chicken?"

Before I can reply and take a bite of my own meal, a sharp intake of air fills my lungs when out of the corner of my eye I watch as Edward brings a pickle spear up to his mouth, slide it in between his lips, and close his eyes. Everything, the whole darn scene, plays out in slow motion, and I'm momentarily unaware that I just dropped a cherry tomato down the front of my blouse.

"You okay?"

I blink several times as the sound of Edward's voice pulls me out of my naughty daydream of a certain sexy bearded man and plump pickles.

"You're drooling, Bells."

Best friend or not, I just might have to take Rosalie out at the kneecap.

I try my best to ignore everything and everyone around me as I focus on my beautiful, healthy salad. It's been about six hours since my last meal and I can already feel my belly start to grumble when I bring a forkful of veggie goodness up to my mouth. I breathe in the blue cheese salad dressing and feel my mouth begin to water. Nana Swan insisted that there was no other dressing like it, clumps and all. She was right because the feel of those tasty, little nuggets rolling around in your mouth are simply…

I wish I was able to finish my train of thought about the wonders of chunky blue cheese salad dressing but the moment Edward grips on to my thigh just above my knee I nearly choke on the chunks. "Have you ever been on a Harley, Bella?"

 _Oh, dang._

* * *

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	10. Twerk Like Nobody's Watching

**Chapter 10**

 **Twerk Like Nobody's Watching**

* * *

I've never been one to enjoy dancing in public. However, I do break out with some pretty funky moves in my house. _Alone_. This usually takes place after I've had my nightly shower. _Alone_. I'm not too familiar with the music they play on the radio these days as most of it's loud and you can't understand a word of any of it. But toss on a little _My Sharona_ or _Stayin' Alive_ , and I'll get down with the best of them. So when I'm asked to dance, especially coming from Edward, it nearly sends me into a panic.

"So what do ya say, Isabella, want to head on over next door and see what kind of trouble we can get into?"

 _Trouble_. That word alone gives me the hives. First of all, I've never been into trouble a day in my life. I was always taught that a lady, especially if she wants to stay one, never puts herself in a situation that she would get a visit from the police and she always keeps her legs closed unless she's using the restroom or procreating. Nana Swan was a wise woman. I mean, look at me. I'm young, healthy, and I've never seen the inside of the penitentiary.

"I probably should be getting home," I reply. "I have a lot of things to get done."

"You have nothing to do, Swan," Rosalie pipes up, never once looking over at me as she continues to give Emmett big, fat googly eyes while he continues to stuff his face with his meat platter. "It's Friday. Organizing your socks can wait."

Out of the corner of my eye I notice a slow smile spread across Edward's mouth.

 _Holy frijole, where did that dimple come from?_

"Well," he says, running his fingertip across my pinky. "I could always come over to your place and help you organize your socks, if you want."

You know that feeling you get in your chest where it feels like everything is tightening and then that feeling travels up your neck and then it feels like the veins in your neck are about to explode? I wonder if that's a heart attack because if it is, I think I'm having one right now.

I take a deep breath and weigh my options for two point two seconds before looking over at my date before saying, "The gonorrhea factory it is."

Five minutes later I find myself surrounded by bikers, half naked women swinging around carelessly on stainless steel poles, disgusting cigarette smoke penetrating my nostrils, and a smiling Edward who looks like he just hit the jackpot.

"So, Isabella, you ever twerk?"

 _What the heck is a twerk?_

* * *

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	11. Bacon Breath and Onion Slobbers

**Chapter 11**

 **Bacon Breath and Onion Slobbers**

* * *

I'm being strangled by smoke, visually assaulted by a couple of men with their front teeth missing, and a woman behind the bar that looks like she could kill a rhino with that penetrating glare.

"Are you sure it's safe here?" I ask Edward as I grip on to his arm for dear life. "I mean, I'm pretty sure these are some _nice_ people and all, but just for the sake of clarity, _are_ we going to survive?"

The gruff chuckle that works its way from Edward's mouth does something to my insides. Okay, not my insides, more like outside, below my navel, above the knees, and between my legs. _That_ spot. That same spot Nana Swan always told me would cause me more trouble in the long run. I quickly remember _the_ _talk_ she had with me when I was twelve. Sweet baby cherubs, that was the worst day of my life. She also said that the best form of contraception was placing a birth control pill between my legs and not letting it fall. Out of curiosity, I tried it five times with a breath mint. It didn't work. Every time I placed one between my thighs I ate it. However, I wouldn't try that with a birth control pill because you could quite possibly…

"I think we'll survive, and don't worry," Edward says, pulling me back from my little trip down memory lane. "No one here will mess with you."

I'm not sure why I feel so inclined to ask but I do anyway. "Why not?"

"Why not, what?"

"Why wouldn't anyone mess with me? Is there something wrong with me?" I ask finally looking up into his eyes, expectantly. "You can tell me if there is. You wouldn't be the first person to say…"

Before I can get another word out, I'm nearly knocked on my butt _again_ but this time for a totally different reason.

"Why did you do that?" I pull my bottom lip in between my teeth and place two fingers against my mouth. "Why…do you do that?"

A smile tugs at the corner of Edward's mouth as he brings his hand up to side of my face. "I kissed you because I wanted to show you that there is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Isabella Swan."

I draw in a shaky breath. He's so close. His face, his lips, his body are so close that it's becoming harder to breath and very confusing all at the same time. I take a chance and look up into his eyes and immediately regret it as soon as I do.

"Have you ever been kissed, Isabella?" I swallow hard because I really don't want to answer that question. "You've never been kissed."

"Yes I have!" I all but blurt out unladylike with a need to explain myself. "I was fifteen. Tommy Finkle kissed me behind the bleachers but he was dared to do it. I didn't care so much about the dare as much as I cared about the fact that his breath smelled like bacon and onions. I think he ate a BLT for lunch. It was gross and he jammed his tongue down my throat. He also slobbered a lot. Double gross."

I take another breath and feel as my heart begins to race a mile a minute.

"Well, I tell you what, I promise that my breath will never smell like bacon the next time I kiss you and every time after that."

 _Again?_

And he did… _again_.

* * *

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	12. Wild Knuckles and Words Of Wisdom

**Chapter 12**

 **Wild Knuckles and Words Of Wisdom**

* * *

My mouth is still tingling from that amazing lip lock, but I still have no idea why he did it.

"How about a drink?" I draw in an uneasy breath before I look up at Edward. His expression is a mixture of curiosity and humor. "If you don't want liquor, I can get you a virgin."

What? How does he know? Is it that obvious? I mean, I've never been able to tell one from someone who isn't, so how is he able to tell?

"So, you want that virgin, Isabella?"

I look to my left and then to my right, careful not to look directly at him. Anywhere but _at_ him. Maybe if I don't make eye contact with him he won't be the wiser. But why should I care? It's not abnormal for someone my age to be in my situation. Is it?

Before I can make any sudden move to bolt away from Edward and away from The Gonorrhea Factory, fate has decided to take it one step further and thrust me into the arms of my blind date when the drunk guy behind me plows into me.

"Hey, sugar, s-sorry 'bout that." The man's breath is a violent mix of alcohol and cigarettes and skunks. "Hey, you're kinda c-cute. Wanna d-dance?"

At this point, I'm pretty sure my face looks like a mixture of disgust and fear as my drunken assailant hovers over me, burping directly in my face.

"No and thank you." I cringe and remember exactly why I vowed to never walk inside of this place for the remainder of my life. "Please excuse me."

"Hey, asshole!" Edward's voice is lethal as he regards the man. "Watch where you're fucking going next time and apologize to the lady."

"I ain't gonna apologize to _shit_ , m-motherfucker!"

And just like that, as fists and arms and hands and bodies start to flail around me, all of Nana Swan's words of wisdom come flooding back when a solid, fist full of knuckles races its way toward my face, and just like that, the proverbial lights go out.

* * *

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


	13. Mack Trucks and Evil Leprechauns

**Chapter 13**

 **Mack Trucks and Evil Leprechauns**

* * *

"Bella!"

 _Hold on Nana, I'll be down in a minute._

"Bella!"

 _Alright, Nana, I'm coming._

"Bella!"

 _I hear you, Nana._

"Bella, wake up!"

 _It's Saturday, Nana, I don't have school today!_

"Isabella Marie Swan, wake your butt up!"

 _Mom?_

As soon as I begin to move, my body feels like it's been hit by a Mack truck, bulldozed by a train, and pummeled by a band of evil leprechauns.

"Good. She's alive."

When I carefully crack my left eye open the pain that radiates to the top of my head and out to the side is nothing short of agonizing. As I bring my hand up to touch my throbbing eye, fingers gently wrap around my wrist and hold it in place.

"I wouldn't touch it if I were you."

 _Edward_.

"You took a pretty nasty right hook to the temple."

Everything is fuzzy and my head feels like it could explode any minute. There are only two things I remember. One, that nasty, inebriated idiot who nearly toppled me and two…

"I got hit! I've been hit! Oh my god! Someone hit me!" I quickly jerk my wrist out of Edward's grip and slap my hand against my throbbing eye. "Ow! Son of a biscuit eater!"

"You're gonna be fine, Bella." Rosalie appears at my side with concern in her eyes. "It's just a little nick and maybe a little swelling, too. Here, put this back on your face."

As soon as I notice what she's attempting to put _on_ my face it takes about two seconds for me to get to my feet.

"Was that already on my skin?" I yelp as I start swaying from side to side, and before I hit the ground, my back hits something soft as a pair of strong arms catch me. "It's a sock, Rose! A filthy sock!"

"In that sock's defense, it was washed with the best damn laundry detergent from the dollar store."

I look up at Emmett and then down to his feet. His left foot is shoeless _and_ sockless.

"Oh my goodness," I say as bile crawls up my throat. "It's _his_ sock, Rose? Like, it was on his frickin' _foot_?"

"It's the only thing available, Bella, and you were swelling like a mofo. So Emmett tore it off his foot and we shoved ice in it. Problem solved."

"Hey, I got rid of the athletes feet about a week ago," Emmett replies with his hands up in front of him. "There is no more itch. Well…kinda."

"I think I'm going to be sick," I reply, while in some serious need of a bleach bath. "I need to go."

I wiggle out of Edward's arms and clutch the side of my face as I make a failed attempt at leaving the bar. When I feel Edward's arm wrap around my shoulders I cringe. It isn't so much that _he_ makes me cringe, it's this entire situation that's making me want to crawl up my own butt and hibernate for the rest of my life.

As soon as I'm outside of the building, I turn to face my blind date and that's when I see it.

"What happened?" I ask, not thinking before I raise my hand and run my finger across Edward's brow. "You're hurt."

"I was defending your honor."

"What do you mean?"

The smile on his face is almost blinding. "I taught that motherfucker a lesson he won't soon forget. He'll be sucking his food out of a straw for the foreseeable future."

"You did that for _me_?"

"And I'd do it again, too." Edward brings his hand up to the side of my face and trails his fingertips slowly down my cheek. "And again, and again, and again."

The pain disappears and my breath catches in the back of my throat when Edward lowers his face until his lips are just inches from mine. I still myself and get ready for another toe curling kiss when a familiar voice booms right behind us.

"Holy shit! Someone fuckered that poor car up!"

For some reason, one that I cannot explain, I tear myself away from Edward and turn to see what Emmett's blabbing on about and I immediately wish I hadn't.

"Shit! That's _my_ car!"

* * *

 **Until Next Time...**

 **OzellaMarie**


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